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He knew directly what it meant. Following the movement, he became conscious of some pale, bluish-looking smoke on his left, and as this grew clearer, he realised that it was not smoke, but a thick mist between him and the coming light of day; but for a few minutes there was nothing more.
Then by slow degrees this dim, grey appearance grew and expanded, till the boy made out that the mist rose out of the depths before them, and at last that he and John Manning were crouching upon a ledge of rock on one side of a great gulf, down into which the waters thundered from their right, while overhead the wall of rock rose up nearly straight, the light of day being shut out by the dense mist which rose from below.
This light increased rapidly now in pale gleams from the left, and a faint, soft diffusion from above, showing that they were where a vast rift in the mountain joined at right angles the valley they had descended, while the rocky sides were so close that they nearly met overhead. But some time elapsed before they could make out more, the steamy mist obscuring everything, and preventing them from seeing anything of Perry or the colonel.
They had both risen to their feet, and clasping hands, began, as soon as it was possible to see a step or two, to try to penetrate farther in; but before they had gone half-a-dozen steps, John Manning, who looked misty and unsubstantial to Cyril, stopped short and pointed downward in front of him to where the rock looked slippery as gla.s.s.
"He went down there, sir," he shouted, and loosening his grasp, threw himself down upon his chest, and wormed himself forward, so as to get his head over the gulf and look down.
Cyril watched the man in agony, fully expecting to see him glide forward out of sight; but in a few minutes he worked himself back, rose, and placed his lips to the boy's ear again.
"Can't see. All one thick cloud of spray."
Cyril gave a great start, for at that moment, from out of the misty gloom, the colonel strode forward to meet them.
"Thank goodness," he shouted. "I was very nervous about--Where's Perry?"
Cyril and John Manning, whose faces had lit up with pleasure, now gave him a despairing look, which made him seize Cyril by both arms.
"My boy!" he gasped. "Where's my boy?"
There was no reply. There was none needed, for the colonel read in their faces what was wrong. He had seen them, too, trying to look down into the misty gulf below, and there was a horrible look of despair in his countenance as he pointed mutely down into the terrible-looking gloom.
Then going right to the edge, he tried to look over, but drew back a little and stretched out his hand to John Manning, hooking his fingers the while.
The old soldier stepped forward. Long discipline and training had made him ready to grasp his master's wishes, and planting his right foot against a projecting piece of the rock, he hooked his fingers in the colonel's, and then hung slightly back, giving a little and a little more, till the latter was able to lean right out and gaze down.
It was by this time far lighter, and the mist was here and there transparent, as it came eddying up more and more like the clouds of smoke from a fire, but there was no piercing even the lightest parts; and giving this up in despair, Colonel Campion rose up, made a sign to them to stand firm, and then stepped rapidly in the direction from which they had seen him come.
One minute they saw his figure growing fainter along by the side of the rock-wall, the next he had disappeared in the gloom and mist.
"Let's follow," said Cyril, with his lips to John Manning's ear.
The man shook his head.
"Soldier never leaves his post without orders," he replied. "Better stay, sir."
Cyril hesitated, but stayed; now watching the spot where the colonel had disappeared, now letting his eyes wander round the place, which, as the growing light of day penetrated it more and more, was still awful enough, with its whirling mist, gloom, and deafening roar of invisible water falling behind the pearly veil, but far from being as terrible as when it was all shrouded in deep obscurity.
For the light came down softly from high above their heads, showing that though the rocky walls nearly approached, there was a firmly-defined band that would probably be bright and golden when the sun rose, but John Manning's words were justified as he suddenly leaned forward and said:
"What a place, sir! It's a wonder there ain't four of us gone for good."
Just then the colonel reappeared with half-a-dozen of the raw hide ropes used about the mules for la.s.soes, tethering, and binding on their loads.
These he threw down, and John Manning followed his example as he began to knot them together.
"Bear me?" shouted the colonel to the old soldier.
"Two of you, sir," said the latter; "but you lower, I'll go."
The colonel shook his head angrily--the task of speaking was too much in his state of anguish--and he went on trying the knots he made, while Cyril picked up one end and examined a couple of the knots before making a strong loop, and pa.s.sing it over his head and shoulders.
His action pa.s.sed un-noticed for a few moments, for he had drawn back; but when the last rope was joined to the others, the colonel turned and grasped the boy's intention.
"G.o.d bless you, my lad," he cried, "but I cannot let you go."
Cyril hardly heard a word in the midst of that deep-toned, booming thunder, but he grasped their import, and stood firm.
"Yes," he shouted. "I'm light. Lower me down."
A curious sensation attacked him as he spoke, and he knew that he was turning pale, but he faced in the direction of the gulf, and tried hard to pull himself together.
"Perry would have gone down after me," he said to himself, "and it isn't so very dangerous after all."
But all the while he knew that it was, and also that it was a task calling for nerve, determination, and strength, all three of which he seemed to be wanting in when face to face with the dense, wreathing mist of that terrible gulf.
"I don't care. I'm afraid, horribly afraid," he muttered between his teeth. "But I'll go. I'd go if it was twice as dangerous, if it's only to let father know I'm not all bad."
Meanwhile, a short discussion, painfully hard, went on between the colonel and John Manning, the former hesitating, the latter insisting.
"He's light, and can do it better than you. Perhaps we couldn't pull you up, nor you me."
Then the colonel held out his hand to Cyril, who grasped it eagerly, but in an instant the colonel's face began to work, and he drew the lad to his breast, held him there for a brief moment, and then released him.
"I'm not afraid now," shouted Cyril, and he stepped at once to the edge, and, as the line was tightened, went down on his face, pa.s.sed his legs over, and, grasping the line with both hands, glided down; seeing the faces of the two men who held the rope disappear, then the shelf; and the next minute, as he was lowered, he saw nothing but the light mist which closed him in, and struck dank and chilly to his face and hands.
He had expected to swing to and fro in the air, and had prepared himself to grasp at the rock, and try to prevent himself from turning round and round; but to his surprise he found that he was on a sharp incline, down which he was sliding easily, for the rock was covered with a slippery mossy growth, over which his hands glided whenever he tried to check his course; for, in spite of his determination, the desire to do this mastered him. Anything to stop himself from going down into that awful place at some terrible depth below, where the water was churning round and round, and tossing up this mist of spray. To go down into that must mean instant death; and after all, what good was he going to do? Poor Perry had slipped, gone over the edge, and then not fallen headlong, but glided down at a terrible rate, with no power to arrest his course; and, if he were not down there below, he must have been swept out by the stream, and be far away down the river by then.
These thoughts came quickly as he slipped gently down, keeping his face toward the roaring water and churning mist, but seeing nothing; for the darkness now, as he was lowered more, began to increase.
Down, down, down! Was there no end to the rope? How long it seemed before it was checked. Still Cyril tried hard to make out something of the whereabouts of his friend. But no; if he turned to the right, toward where there was the hissing noise of the falling water, all was black, as black as it was below in the fearful hollow into which it plunged, to send up that deafening, reverberating thunder. At last to the left there, where he knew the chasm must open into the valley by which they came, he could see a faint suggestion of light, such light as one sees when looking towards a candle with the eyes tightly closed, and when trying to peer through the veined lids.
Then, to his horror, he was being lowered again, for he had believed that the end of the hide rope was reached.
It seemed a great depth down before there was another check, though probably it was not more than a dozen or twenty feet; and once more, as he tried to grasp the slimy rock behind him, he peered about vainly, knowing that if poor Perry had once begun to glide down that horrible slope, he must have gone right on down to the bottom.
Then there was a heavier strain upon his chest, and to his intense relief, now that he felt how vain his effort had been, he turned his face toward the rocks, and tried to help by climbing, as he was being drawn up.
Vain effort. Hands and feet glided over the slippery moss, and he soon subsided, and waited in increasing agony, while he was steadily hauled up. For, in descending, his senses were hard at work, and he was momentarily hoping to rest upon some shelf where he might come upon Perry. But now he had nothing to do but think of himself and his risks, and, in spite of the effort to be brave, he could not keep his mind from dwelling upon the knots of the several ropes, and wondering whether those John Manning tied were as firm as the colonel's, and whether the rope itself might not have been frayed by pa.s.sing over the rocks, and give way just before he reached the shelf.
At last, with head burning, hands and feet like ice, and clothes drenched with the spray, he felt himself seized by John Manning's strong fingers and lifted into safety.
It had now become light enough for him to see well around; the mist on high was turning roseate and warm by reflection, for the sun was rising; and the colonel turned from him with a look of agony, and stood with his back to them, while John Manning unloosed the rope.
"n.o.body could come out of such a place as that, my lad," he said, "alive."